


The Art of Dating: ass-backwards

by Frisk15



Series: Family Hodgepodge [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sex Pollen, This is NOT how you date!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frisk15/pseuds/Frisk15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not what usually happened when Danny investigated a crime scene. Or how he dated, for that matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Dating: ass-backwards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kamui_kun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamui_kun/gifts).



> This fills the 'sex pollen' square of my H/C Bingo card

He'd always considered it a lack of decorum, an indication of diminished professionalism. Even when temperatures had hit the _Can you believe this fucking heat ?_ ! mark on the thermometer the previous week, he hadn't done so. It stayed where he put it in the morning, not moving an inch, not sliding down a notch, and only came off when he got home at night.

Until now.

Detective Daniel Williams - and the larger portion of his brain just flatly refuses to register the fact, just bows out and detaches itself from this level of absolute _non-_ professionalism - is actually loosening his tie. Is almost _ripping_ it from his throat, to be more exact, because somehow he just can't _breathe_ anymore. Feels as if somebody has snuck up on him and jammed his head into an oven, then turned the knob to the _hotter as hell_ setting.

Yanking it completely loose, the action causes him to stumble against the desk, rattling the pens in the little vase standing on the corner. Watching with a kind of detached feeling, he sees the little vase doing its best to regain its balance, then suddenly adhere to Newton's Universal Law of Gravitation and fall towards the floor, shattering in several pieces.

' _Great, you've just contaminated a crime scene'_   the detached part of his brain scolds him, but is immediately answered by the smaller rebellious part, the part which had screamed _Get rid of the tie!_   and goaded him into said action. _'It's an OLD crime scene, so who gives a fuck!_ '

And that last word is the key term.

 _Fuck_.

Because the overwhelming sense of heat, the feeling of having suddenly been immersed into a hot pool of lava is accompanied, no, _superseded_ by the intense, all-encompassing urge to have some serious, unadulterated and long-drawn-out _sex_! At least, that's the impression Danny gets from the raging hard-on he's been sporting for the last ten minutes or so.

Something niggles at the back of his mind, something which his Captain told him, some warning about a certain _chemical_ which was found at the scene, a warning which barely registered as Danny stomped out of the man's office, pissed off at being the mainland _schmuck_ stuck with an unwanted case - a case that none of his colleagues wanted to touch with a ten foot pole - involving an aging cop who had gotten too close to a pair of arms and drugs dealing Irish brothers, ending up paying the ultimate price for it.

The aforementioned body part squirms in his pants, causing his train of thought to derail and crash.

It's so actively present, so _alive_ , that Danny won't be surprised if it pops out of his pants unaided and starts looking around the room for something to hump; knows with near-certainty that the proverbial goldfish won't just stop swimming in their bowl but will actually _jump out_ of it in fear and skitter away on their fins, screaming in terror once they catch sight of the bulge now straining the front of his pants.

It's _huge_ !

A sudden sound manages to penetrate the haze permeating his brain, and the professional part of his mind, the part which was still in total shock from the removal of his tie, determines it comes from what he knows to be the garage.

His straining penis, now apparently having developed a mind of its own - _("Just call me Woody.")_ \- immediately concludes that, if it makes a sound, it's _alive_ , and if it 's alive, it can be _fucked_! and starts pointing in the direction of the garage. "Lead on, Macduff," Danny mumbles, quickly wiping the sweat off his brow, and exits the study.

The gloomy garage first makes it difficult to see, and Danny rapidly blinks to get accustomed to the dim lighting. There's movement by the garage doors, as well as a barely perceived sound - a moan? - and Danny rapidly draws his weapon.

"HPD! Identify yourself!"

A figure slowly steps out from the shadows into the light coming through the open doorway, and Danny's over-active body part - right, Woody - almost _jumps_ out of his pants in sheer joy. The man standing in front of him is _gorgeous_ , and he's _breathing_ \- almost panting actually, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps - and that means he can ...

Danny slams a lid on Woody's now near-audible babbling, trying to keep some semblance of control because hey, this is a potentially _dangerous_ situation, and Danny Williams does _not_ want to be remembered as 'that _haole_   HPD detective who got himself killed because his _dick_ got in the way'. Basically a case of a dick killed by a dick. Nope.

He takes in the long, muscular form of the man - _'Oh my, and look at the way his pants are straining at the front!'_   Woody whispers and he studiously ignores it - and notices the tattoos peeking out from underneath the shirt sleeves, the damp, dark short hair trying to curl at the sides of the taut neck and how the man - his eyes, framed by ridiculous long-ass lashes and the color of a stormy sea - stares at him from underneath half hooded eyelids, dark with some form of emotion.

' _Oohhhhh, let me at'im!'_   Woody begs and Danny moans, resulting in a slight lift of the other man's eyebrow. There's sweat streaming down the other guy's face as well, and he's making small, barely noticeable - except Woody notices, oh yes _Sirree_ \- hopping motions, moving from one foot to the other. Woody again takes control of Danny's visual senses and directs his eyes back to the man's crotch.

_Dear God!_

Danny almost loses the grip on his gun, his heart speeding up even more and his eyes widening. Another involuntary moan escapes his lips. The man's low, husky voice drags Danny's attention from his nether regions back up to his face, watching his lips move but not quite grasping the words.

"Wha ...?"

Frowning, Danny tries to focus on what the guy is saying, meanwhile flicking his sweat-drenched hair, now falling over his forehead, out of his eyes. The other man's eyes intently follow the hand gesture, like a cat hypnotized by the movement of some small rodent, ready to pounce.

_('Yesss!' Woody whispers.)_

"Ehm, I said, that ..."

The man's voice hitches as a small tremor runs through his body, apparently causing him to forget what he was about to say. He runs a large hand over his face, a hand made for _holding_ and _grabbing_ and _doing_ things to Danny's body and ...

"It's hot in here."

The man licks his lips, and Danny follows the lazy movement of the pink tongue, running along the bottom of the mouth which is _perfect_ and made for _kissing_ _("And sucking!_ " _squeals Woody)_   and he feels his guts tighten with a powerful feeling of _want_ , unconsciously taking a step forward.

"Yes ... I still need you to fu ... ehm, I mean, still need you to identify yourself."

Danny feels a blush of embarrassment at how he slips up there, fairly certain that it won't show on his already red, _hot_ face, but the way the man's eyes - oh, and those eyes are _gorgeous_ \- narrow he knows he's been caught-out.

"Which one do you need me to do first?"

The husky voice enters his ears, by-passes the logical - _professional_ , dammit! - and now almost inaudible part of his brain and, without so much as a by-your-leave, zooms straight down along his nerves to his crotch, where Woody is busily trying to undo his zipper because he wants _out!_   and then _in!_   and really, _really_ wants to _jump_ straight into the man's beautiful large hands so he ...

Danny swallows, taking another step in the man's direction, and _oh God_ he can smell him, actually _smell_   him, smell the arousal in the man, and it's short-circuiting his brain and destroying that lest vestige of self-control and he suddenly finds himself right on the same page with Woody, who yells _YES!_   as Danny stumbles against the man, falls _into_ the man's muscular arms, which wrap themselves around him like honeysuckle around a tree, and Danny just ceases to think.

* * *

Danny slowly opens his eyes, then squeezes them tightly shut again at the sensation of the - _('God,' Woody weakly mumbles)_ \- man next to him, plastered all _over_ him like a wet, warm blanket. His dazed mind tries to remember, and then desperately tries to _un_ -remember, because there are sudden, crystal clear images of the man kneeling before him, and flashes of the man - _('God ... oh God,_ _ **definitely**_ _a God!')_ \- bending him over the hood of the old Mercury in the garage, and then they were inside the Mercury and then the man was inside _him_ , his own ass up in the air, and ...

"Hey," rumbles the husky voice into his ear, and Woody desperately tries to pay attention but fails miserably, worn out, _drained_ of every last drop of energy. "You went AWOL there for a while." Lips gently ghost over his ear, sending exquisite shivers down Danny's spine, coiling in his gut and then poking at Woody, who just lies there, trembling, unable to respond.

Rising up on one elbow, Danny stares into the man's eyes - now a hue of emerald green - scrutinizing him as if trying to read his thoughts. "I, eh ... I need to get dressed." Mortified at the situation, he wrenches himself out from underneath the naked body, opening the passenger door and then basically _drops_ out of the back of the car onto the cold, hard concrete floor of the garage.

Desperately glancing around he first spots his pants by the left front wheel and scrambles to get them. As he grabs them off the floor, his eyes catch sight of his boxer shorts, and - oh _God!_ \- how did they end up hanging from the top of the car's antenna?!

He's already yanked on his boxers, now hopping around trying to stick one shaky leg into his pants, when the man unfolds his impressive - and _naked_ \- length from the car, coming towards him, and Danny furiously blushes as he finally manages to get both his legs with the program and is able to pull up his pants. "Shirt," he mumbles to himself, looking everywhere except at the man.

"Over the steering wheel, I think," he hears, and the man bends down through the open window, presenting Danny momentarily with a perfect view of his muscular ass - and Danny wants to shoot a picture of that ass and frame it on his wall - and retrieves Danny's shirt, handing it to him. For a moment their hands touch, and Danny yanks his away as - again! - an electrical current seems to run between the two of them.

A frown appears on the guy's face, then suddenly is replaced by a look which Danny once saw on the face of a four month old mutt in the pound after Rachel told Grace "No!" and they had walked away, looking for their own dog who had managed to escape the house yet again. The mutt had known they weren't going to take it with them, and the sad, desperate realization of being abandoned had been written all over its face, followed by a pitiful, long and drawn-out howl.

"Look," Danny says softly, daring to look up into the man's eyes, his _beautiful_ eyes, "I need to get back to HPD and write a repo..." Realization slams into him, the absolute knowledge that _no way in hell_ will he be able to deliver an account of what happened, or worse, come up with any other plausible reason for having just spent - he looks at his watch, then recoils in shock - _four_ _hours_ at the crime scene.

"Oh Jesus I'm _so fucked_!" he groans, instantly regretting that particular choice of words as the guy's eyes light up and a big - _adorable_ \- goofy grin appears on his face. Danny slumps against the work bench, running a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. "I can kiss my career goodbye now. Which means I can't pay alimony, which means Rachel will cancel my visitation rights and Grace ..."

Collapsing in on himself, Danny slowly slides down to the ground, then starts bashing his fists against his forehead. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ " Two strong hands grab both his wrists, restraining them in order to prevent him from further hurting himself, and when he looks up at the guy - now hunkered down in front of him, and when the _hell_ did he manage to pull on his _pants_ for Christ's sake - stares into his eyes, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

"Grace, she's your ..."

"Daughter," Danny nods. "And my ex-wife is going to yank visitation rights away faster than you can say _"Told you never to marry a British woman"_ \- (like his mother had actually warned him) - soon as she hears the story of this ..." and he waves around him, "this _thing_ with a complete stranger and I'll never see my little girl again."

There's a non-plussed look on the guy's face, as if he has trouble understanding the situation, so Danny continues to patiently paint him the picture of his imminent down-fall.

"Obviously I will have to tell my Captain - who, by the way, _warned_ me about the air-bound chemicals they found here, chemicals which, well, which apparently had a strange reaction on people - tell him about what ehm, transpired here, which will no doubt hit HPD gossip circuit within one nanosecond and result in all of HPD shunning my _haole_ ass even more and me being out of a job because..."

And he shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his mouth, then continues in a shaky voice. "Because there isn't a cop in this pineapple-infested hell hole who'll be willing to work with a partner who _fucks strange men_ without even asking their name! And how has this become my life, because back in Jersey I'd never, ever ..."

Danny shakes his head, then lets it fall down and draws in a deep, shuddering breath, completely shattered by the ramifications of his encounter in the garage. He should've just declined the job, should've just _run away_ after hearing the Captain say that nobody had wanted to take the case, should've _bolted_ from the crime scene at the first sign of ...

"Steve."

The voice is soft, almost gentle, then becomes firmer, more ... _authoritative_. And _that_ tone gives Danny the shivers and travels down his spine and ... No. Danny hits the breaks right there and then. Just, no.

"Actually, Lieutenant-Commander Steven J. McGarrett, United States Navy." He cocks his head. "So now we're not strangers anymore, at least ..."

Danny sighs. "Detective Daniel Williams, HPD, formerly of Newark, New Jersey. Soon to be formerly of Honolulu PD as well."

They're silent for a moment.

"You mentioned chemicals, _air-bound_ chemicals." Steve says, "I take it that explains ..."

Danny smirks. "Explains the carnal lust and actually _giving in to it_   without even knowing who it is you're fucking." He groans. "God, at least I _hope_ so! Otherwise it was a _very_ intense reaction to having had no physical contact for over a year." He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"You haven't had sex for over a year?"

Steve looks at him, eyebrows raised, a surprised look on his face which causes Danny to huff.

"Yes Mister Tell-Me-Your-Most-Intimate-Secrets, and what's so strange about that? I mean, obviously a man with your looks, with that ... _body_ " and he motions along Steve's body, pretty proud of himself that he manages to keep from drooling, "wouldn't have to do without for that long, but us mere mortals, well ..."

Danny squints up, then feels his breath catch in his throat at the look on Steve's face, a look which - oh dear _Lord_ \- actually, incredibly but true starts to wake Woody again, and that, that is something which Danny _cannot_ handle right now!

"Were you serious about possibly losing your job over, ehm ... over this?"

Danny nods. "Most likely. I mean, they weren't too fond of me to begin with, and if this comes out ..."

"Right," says Steve, suddenly all business-like, then pulls a cell phone out of one of the pockets of his cargo pants, and Danny wonders what else Lieutenant-Commander 'Let's Fuck In The Car' might carry in those pants, and oh _God,_ he realizes that he's definitely been intimate with at least _one_ of the items he hides in there, and then catches on to the conversation Steve is having on the phone.

"... take the job."

Staring at the tall man hovering above him, looking _ridiculously_ at ease in just cargo pants and nothing else, Danny catches him winking at him while listening to somebody ask a question at the other end.

"Let's just say I found something that changed my mind."

Danny's mouth falls open at the implication of Steve's words, and he's just about to protest - and protest _fiercely_ he might add, because being described as 'something' after what they just did, well, that is just too much even for the degraded way Danny is feeling right now - when Steve holds up a hand, causing Danny's jaws to slam shut.

"No no no, _immediately_. I'll transfer to the Reserves and I'll run your task force."

'Task force?' Danny thinks, and he's about to say something again, ask some more questions - because really, he doesn't even _know_ Steve or what he's about, and what the hell is he talking about anyway? - when the man holds up a hand again - and he needs to stop _doing_ that! - and a surprised look washes over his face.

"What? Right _now_ ?!"

And as Danny watches, Steve holds up a hand again - what's with this guy and _hands_! - only this time not to stop Danny and he starts to pledge an oath about 'honor' and 'conscience' and says something that sounds like 'a manner befitting an officer of the law', and that's when Danny looses it and starts giggling, then howling his head off with laughter because, seriously? _nothing_ they had done in that garage was even _close_ to 'befitting an officer of the law'.

Danny is still giggling, leaning against the work bench with tears in his eyes, when Steve looms into his vision again, his head bent down to Danny, looking into his eyes with something which seems a mixture of concern and some anxiety and - oh, the _smug_ son-of-a-bitch - yes, even satisfaction as he places a hand on Danny's arm.

"You don't have to worry about your job with HPD anymore. As of now, you're part of my Task Force."

Frowning, Danny stares at him. "And that means, what exactly? That you have just made a decision in which I have no say-so?"

Steve gives him a dead-pan look. "You got no choice, Detective. The Governor gave me jurisdiction. I'm making you my partner. We're gonna get along great."

Then he winks at Danny again.

"I just _know_ we're gonna get along great!"

Danny groans.


End file.
